


no one frequents the bookshop like She does

by statsvitenskap



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Gen, God Ships Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Tumblr Prompt, also how do i title?, and She also is slowly trying to set up ineffable husbands, aziraphale pines, god likes to read, i loved this prompt so much, prompt from tumblr user dinosaurrainbowsstarfish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 10:33:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19990705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/statsvitenskap/pseuds/statsvitenskap
Summary: Aziraphale loves his bookshop. Over the centuries of having it, however, he's had experiences with customers and the like, some more memorable than others. He never would've thought there was anything connecting them, much less the Highest Power of Them All being involved.based on an AMAZING prompt by @dinosaurrainbowstarfish on Tumblr.





	no one frequents the bookshop like She does

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Charlie572](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie572/gifts).



> lmaoooo this fic was SO fun to write. this prompt is also the first one that encouraged me to write ineffable husbands for the first time, hehe.  
> i made a "character" for God to play in each century,, i hope it reads the way i wanted it to, i didn't get this beta read.  
> the prompt was: [God really likes Aziraphale’s proclivity for literature and has, unbeknownst to him, been coming to hang out and read at his bookshop twice a century for as long as it’s been open. This was her reason for not casting Aziraphale out.](https://dinosaurrainbowstarfish.tumblr.com/post/186482971985/ok-so-a-lot-of-people-have-noticed-the-weird)  
> i definitely took a few artistic liberties with it, but other than that, GOD, this was so fun to write.

When he first opened the bookshop, it was empty for a good two weeks or so. Aziraphale didn’t mind this, of course. He owned the bookshop so as to keep his books in a loving environment, so to speak, and had already made multiple plans for when a human wandered in and asked to buy one. Besides, England was busy trying to keep control of America, so most humans didn’t have buying books on a high priority list. He had a good amount of time until someone actually tried to buy something. 

The little bell he had miracled up to alert him to a customer rang for the first time while he’d been in the process of sorting a now half-empty leather bag of books in his usual fashion[1] , and when the young brunette dressed quaintly in a pale blue dress stepped into the room of books, eyes shining with interest, he’d mentally slapped himself in the face, already preparing a speech when she inevitably came to the counter with a book in hand.

[1]  The angel had his own rather unusual way of sorting them, but he could find what he needed in a pinch, and since he wasn’t planning on really selling anything, that was all that mattered, no?

What Aziraphale didn’t expect, however, was for the young woman to smile at him and turn a corner into the shelves of books silently. He managed a smile in reply before she stepped out of sight, and only just caught a glance of her frizzy brown hair flowing behind her. He simply blinked and took a cautious breath, turning back to his work. 

About half an hour later, a light cough diverted his attention and he turned again, jumping when he saw the girl standing at the counter. Her sandy brown hair was in waves, he noticed, and pulled across her face in a middle part, framing her kind, careworn brown eyes. She smiled and straightened her shoulders, fiddling with her hands. “Your bookshop is very nice, Mr. Fell. It’s rather cozy.” She cleared her throat and said, “Unfortunately, my mother expects me to be home soon, so I regret not being able to pick one out properly.” 

Aziraphale sighed, trying to hide his visible relief. “Why, dear girl, it’s alright. If she’s calling, you should go home, hmm?” He added a little miracle of his own into the last sentence, and she quirked an eyebrow. 

The young woman tilted her head and smiled, eyes warm. “Of course, sir,” she replied and turned away, towards the door. Aziraphale stared at her back as she walked away and gulped when she turned her head back again. “I’ll be sure to let some of my friends to come here sometime. Like I said, sir,” she turned to face him all the way. “It’s a very nice bookshop you’ve got here. You could go places.” 

“T-thank you,” he stuttered out, smiling awkwardly, unnerved by her burning gaze, one that held more wisdom than that of a woman her age normally had. The angel let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding[2] when she had finally left the building and briefly remembered a certain witch who had written a book he’d been trying to get his hands for years, and furrowed his brows. Taking another deep breath, he sighed and shook his head. Humans.

[2] Which didn’t make much sense, in hindsight. He was an angel, and thus had no need for functions like breathing and the like. 

After that day, the bookshop was never empty for long. The young woman was only the start of many other visitors over the years. Some came for the books, others for the bookshop itself (like the young woman, they said it was “cozy”), and others for completely different reasons entirely. One memorable visit was in the 1800’s, during Victoria’s era. A young girl with matted hair and dirty clothes stepped inside silently one early morning and approached Aziraphale, who had been standing in the window of the bookshop, watching the city’s streets worriedly .[3] He turned when the girl tapped his shoulder and beamed. “Florence,” he sighed, “How lovely to see you.” The young girl, who had refused to tell Aziraphale her last name, “worked” in his bookshop every morning. Of course, he had caught her reading while “on the job” but she never noticed him when he found her reading, she was so into the book. And after all, he had told her that as long as she got what she needed to do done, she could stay and read as long as she wished and have her paycheck by the end of her workday. Naturally, each day she finished everything at an unearthly[4] speed, and immediately hid in the back, nose deep in a book, as Aziraphale finished up purchases[5] at the front of the shop. 

[3]  Crowley had made a simply atrocious request of him the afternoon before. There was absolutely no way he was giving  _ that _ to the demon! He just hoped Crowley didn’t try to retrieve it for himself.

[4]  Which, in hindsight, should have been a hint to her true identity, but someone’s first thought was hardly ever the truth.

[5]  By purchases, he obviously meant hinting heavily for the buyers to leave immediately.

After he had finished up with a particularly irritating customer one morning, he turned and found Florence standing in the doorway, one hand on the frame of the door. She stared at him emotionlessly with wide brown eyes, her blonde hair still frizzy with humidity, though since staying with Aziraphale, less soiled with dirt and soot. He jumped at her sudden appearance and burning stare paired with the mischievous smile painting her face. “Florence!” He exclaimed albeit nervously, getting rather mixed signals from the girl. “Did you finish your work?”

Florence grinned. “Yes, Mr. Fell. I just came to ask you something.” Aziraphale blinked. How unusual. Florence hardly ever asked him questions unrelated to work, yet the angel had the impression she was about to ask him something personal, something about to dig deep. He glanced around, trying not to make eye contact and desperately trying to predict what she was about to ask so he could make up a lie on the spot. “Do you have a wife, Mr. Fell?”

Oh. Well, that was rather anticlimactic. Aziraphale pulled back a little, eyes wide in surprise. “A wife…?” Florence nodded. 

A wife. Hmm. Aziraphale furrowed his brow in thought. He wouldn’t have a wife, would he? He’d been on Earth long enough to have explored his sexual orientation, and he knew for a fact he certainly wasn’t interested in women. So, a husband. Well, he certainly didn’t have one of those either. Humans’ lives were too short lived for anything more than a fling and a partner was someone you would want to spend all of your life with. When you were immortal, that would obviously have its problems. Aziraphale wrung his hands. The only one who was even close to that definition was his hereditary enemy, and not only were the two of them on bad terms at the moment[6] , but there was no chance in Heaven, Hell, or Earth that would happen!

[6] See footnote 3.

Still, Florence stared up at him intently, waiting for an answer, and he supposed his body looked like the type to be a family man of some kind. Intentionally, he vaguely answered the question. “You could… say that.” Florence raised her eyebrows. 

“Really, sir?” She tilted her head innocently. “How come I’ve never seen her, then?” 

Oh dear Almighty. 

“Oh!” He smiled sheepishly. “She, well- she doesn’t like coming here…?” He phrased it more like a question than a statement, and Florence grimaced. 

“Sir, you really don’t have to lie to me.” She drawled “have to” like “hafta” and placed her hands on her hips confidently, a very un-Florence like thing to do, Aziraphale thought. They held each other’s gaze for a moment or two, or maybe three, and in the process, he noticed how careworn Florence’s eyes were, abnormally so for a young girl like her. He could have excused it for being because of the harsh times, but behind them lay years of wisdom, something he hadn’t seen in a young woman’s eyes since his first customer. 

His first customer? Why, he hadn’t seen that young lady in years. After she’d came the first time, she’d never come back, though a young boy with her same eyes had strolled in one afternoon, proclaiming that he was her brother, and then proceeded to sit and read in a corner for about an hour before saying goodbye, and like his sister, never coming back. 

He shook himself out of the unrelated[7] thoughts and crossed his arms. “Florence,” He said sternly, tilting his head down so his eyes peeked out from behind the glasses. Like a stern, old librarian, Aziraphale liked to think, which he supposed he was, just without the borrowing. “That is much too personal of a question for me to answer.”

[7] Or so they seemed.

“You got a husband, then, sir?” She smirked, completely ignoring his previous remark. Aziraphale sputtered, hands flailing.

“I do not have anything of the sort-!” He glanced around for any stray customers, knowing 19th century England was in no way lenient towards homosexuality, but luckily there were none, and he sighed. “Florence, you are being unusually nosy today.” Florence flinched then, as if she’d blown some sort of cover, and shrugged.

“Sorry, sir. Just wasn’t sure. After all, my, er.” She perked up. “My brother’s one of ‘em, you see. You seemed like the type. His friend goes to some gentlemen’s club, something-or-other. He told me he does the gavotte!” She grinned at Aziraphale, who simply stared.

“The what?”

“Gavotte. Type of dance I hear they do up in the courts. His friend’s got more friends in high places. Like I said, you seemed like the type.” The thought occurred to Aziraphale that this was more words that Florence had ever said to him in her many weeks of working with him, though they were wiped away by the idea of a gentleman’s club- and a gavotte.[8]

[8]  The feeling he’d felt when this had happened had felt much like what he had imagined being on the opposite end of a miracle might feel like. Simply that he all-of-a-sudden wanted to think about the gavotte instead. It was unusual, but he later blamed it on the lingering thoughts of a certain demon distracting him.

“I shall have to learn about this gavotte, then, Florence. Thank you.”

“Of course, sir.” And after that, she’d strolled away, into the back.

Florence never came back after she had left that night. She had never told Aziraphale why. She simply stopped coming to the bookshop. He missed her presence around, some days, but after over a month of no Florence, he simply gave up trying to search for her. He hoped wherever she was, she was reading a book and happy with her life, though his cynical side[9] knew otherwise, especially here, in the 1800’s.

[9]  One that, unfortunately, all angels seemed to have, Gabriel even more so. Perhaps that was just one of the  _ “perks of being an archangel,”  _ or in Aziraphale's case, one of the perks of being a principality.

And so, the bookshop was quiet again for a long time. About a century, in fact, until the morning after Crowley’s almost-robbery .[10] Someone entered that morning, as Aziraphale sighed gloomily[11] at his current post, the desk in the back fixing up books absentmindedly. He had removed the bell from the door long ago and really hadn’t realized anyone had come in, at least until the someone opened up the door to the back. “Hello!” The middle-aged woman exclaimed cheerfully. “You must be Mr. Fell! Beautiful morning, isn’t it?” 

[10]  Aziraphale would wonder idly what it was, exactly, about these unusually memorable encounters and events with Crowley in them. Spending too much time on Earth had begun to make him believe it was all just a coincidence, though somewhere deep inside, he knew it was anything but.

[11]  In almost a lovesick fashion, though Aziraphale would never admit it.

Aziraphale let out a yelp of surprise, jumping from his seat and nearly knocking over the chair he’d been sitting in. The woman, short dirty blonde hair cut into a wavy bob, adjusted her sun hat so the brim was out of her eyes. He could see the smile lines around her hazel eyes visibly then, and her pearly whites gleamed as she beamed at him.

Oh Goddess, he wasn’t ready for a customer like this. Not now, oh Almighty. The angel sighed heavily, shoulders sinking, and he took off his glasses. “Of course, miss. Welcome.” He smiled weakly. “Do you need help with anything specifically?”

The woman furrowed her brow. “No. I was just wondering where you were.”

Ah. 

“Miss, I’m sorry to say that I’m not currently interested-”

“Not like that, Mr. Fell!” She toned her beam down to a cheerful smile. “You’re always at the front, greeting people in the mornings, so I just got a little worried there. Thought you might be sick or something. Though I guess it wouldn’t make sense if you opened up shop while you were sick…” She trailed off, and Aziraphale stood there, still as a rock, mind beginning to fade away to the night before. 

_ “You go too fast for me, Crowley.” _

Aziraphale sighed hopelessly again, the facade he kept up for the customers fading, his eyes darkening. The woman, just a few inches taller than Aziraphale, tilted her head. “What’s wrong, Mr. Fell? Did something happen? Family business?” She quirked a brow. “Lover’s quarrel?”

Aziraphale sputtered in surprise, reminded of a young girl from the 1800’s, and pulled himself together. “Miss…”

“Diamond.”

“Miss Diamond, that kind of question was absolutely uncalled for- it was personal, intrusive, and I have to say, I am feeling very uncomfortable at this moment!” He exclaimed, and Miss Diamond barked out a laugh.

“Get used to it, sunshine. So,” she grinned cunningly. “Lover’s quarrel. Tell me, was it a man or a woman?” 

Aziraphale stayed silent.

“A man.”

“Pardon?!” He blinked quickly and gaped at the cheeky blonde- almost brunette- in front of him. Miss Diamond smiled. 

“Not hard to figure out, sunshine. Don’t worry,” she leaned in and patted his shoulder. “You secret’s safe with me. Got a girlfriend of my own, you know.” She winked, and suddenly Aziraphale felt an unusual feeling of relief wash over him like he washed down seafood with white wine. It was unusual, and part of him said to stop as quickly as possible, to turn this woman away before he couldn’t. But the other part of him screamed to let her stay. It had been so long, so very, very long since he’d had a new, different presence in his bookshop. 

“What’d he do then, sunshine?” 

Aziraphale frowned. This was it. Either turn this strange woman away, or tell her about Crowley…

...after a few seconds of thought, he figured it was an easy choice.

“I had just realized I loved him.” He stated simply, and Miss Diamond leaned in, nodding carefully. “I had just realized I loved him and…”

Hours must have passed. Hours and hours and hours of him telling her everything[12] , and by the end of it, she said nothing, though the corner of her mouth twitched. “What?” He asked, almost defensively, now sitting back on his chair and leaning his arms on the desk as he rested his throbbing head in his hand. “You don’t believe any of it? Or are you just laughing at me?”

[12]  Though he didn’t mention the angel/demon bit. He was desperate for someone to talk to, but he wasn’t insane.

“Nothing like that, sunshine.” Miss Diamond replied, leaning against a spare bookshelf in the corner. At some point during Aziraphale’s rant, she had begun pacing the room and finally settled within eyesight of Aziraphale, but not so close that it distracted him. “Just wondering how two people can be so in love, and not realize it.” She shrugged. “It’s a little sad, if you ask me.” Aziraphale opened his mouth to object, but she added, “My advice? Tell him. You love him so much, then tell him. He obviously loves you back, so don’t spend your whole life sitting on your ass alone when you could just let him know and spend it with him, together.”

“But-”

“Your families? Fuck your families,” she said dismissively. “You’ve got love, don’t ya? Your love for each other can very well beat all odds. You just don’t know it yet.”

Aziraphale sighed and shook his head. “Miss Diamond, you don’t know how wrong you are.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Believe me, I know what I’m talking about. But hey, if you’d like-” She pulled herself away from the bookshelf and spread her hands out. “We can just forget about all this. What just happened. We can forget about it, and I’ll leave you here to think about your choices and what you’re gonna do, while I go do what I came to do and read some of those books out there.” She flashed her pearly whites at him and tipped her green sun hat. “Sound good?”

Aziraphale nodded. “At least let me show you out.”

“It’s barely two feet, Mr. Fell,” and within about two seconds, she’d gone from Miss Diamond to the bubbly middle-aged woman he’d seen enter just an hour earlier. “I can manage. Thank you though, you’re really too kind.” She turned, took two steps, and closed the door quietly behind her just as Aziraphale turned back to his desk and sighed heavily, this time for a much different reason.

He never saw Miss Diamond again, much like the other memorable customers. A pity. She really had seemed nice and willing to listen, though he supposed that was what he deserved for agreeing to forget about their conversation. 

“Angel? Angel?  _ Angel?” _

Aziraphale blinked, his head leaning on one of his hands, and his thoughts fell away as he turned to Crowley, who was waving a hand in front of his face. “Fuck, angel, I thought you’d left to Alpha Centauri without me and were never coming back.” The demon smirked, flaming ginger hair flopping in front of his face as he tilted his head so that his sunglasses fell to his nose and Aziraphale could see his beautiful golden eyes properly. The angel scoffed and smiled fondly at the demon.

“I could never. Then I’d never get to see you again, now would I?” Crowley grinned and slung a lanky, bony arm around Aziraphale’s significantly rounder waist. 

“Who said I wouldn’t fly myself up there to get to you, hmm?” With no customers in the bookshop, Crowley was free to be as affectionate as he liked, and buried his face into the curve of Aziraphale’s neck, kissing a stray mole at the base. The angel simply giggled and ruffled Crowley’s hair, who, at the touch, tilted his head upwards again, glasses askew. He pressed his lips to Aziraphale’s cheek, and Aziraphale poked him, still smiling ear to ear.

“You demon.”

“Exceptional observation skills there, angel.” Aziraphale snorted and covered his mouth, shaking his head in mock frustration. Crowley simply grinned, unusually sharp canines flashing from their hiding spots and leaned in again, eyes closed. Aziraphale met the demon’s lips with his own this time, and Crowley placed his hand on Aziraphale’s cheek, pulling him just a little bit closer. They pulled away, grinning madly at each other, and just in time, the (newly added) bell rang at the door, signaling another customer. 

As Crowley fell to the floor and turned into his snake form, like he did when all customers arrived, the elderly woman approached the counter, heels clicking against the hardwood floor. She smiled warmly, short grey hair framing her face, and waved cheerfully at the snake that hadn’t been in its cage when she had first entered. 

She strolled up to Aziraphale. “Mr. Fell! How lovely to see you again, after all these years.”

Aziraphale did not recognize this woman. “Pardon?”

She widened her eyes in surprise. “Why, you don’t remember me? Mr. Fell, I was your first customer here!”

Aziraphale glanced at snake-Crowley, who simply stared at the woman with a mixture of aggressiveness and confusion. The angel’s gaze flickered back to the woman in front of him, and he said apologetically, “Ma’am, I don’t believe we’ve met.” 

“You don’t even recognize my voice?” She pouted, and Aziraphale desperately thought harder.

“Well, yes,” he realized, “but I’ve never seen you here before.”

“Of course you have!” She exclaimed, smiling again, the smile lines around her eyes extremely pronounced. “You just didn’t know it was me, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale gaped. The Almighty slapped a hand to Her mouth. “Did I say that out loud?” She sighed. “I’ve been coming here for centuries, and though I came close to blowing my cover, never did it get this bad.” She turned to snake-Crowley. “I told him to tell you, you know. Gave him advice, tried to speed things along. But he didn’t listen. You’ve got yourself a stubborn one.” She turned back to Aziraphale, smiling again. “But anyways, your bookshop is wonderful. You’ve got so many nice books. The Oscar Wilde collection’s my favorite, were those from him personally?” She leaned in, obviously interested.

Aziraphale simply stared.

She grinned. “Thought so. Anyways, Aziraphale, I suppose I won’t be coming here anymore. Now that I’ve blown my cover, there’s really no fun in it-”

“You were the first customer?” Aziraphale interrupted, still trying (and failing) to process the situation. 

The Almighty smiled patiently. “Yes. And her “little brother,” and Florence, and dear Miss Diamond.” She paused thoughtfully. “Now, she was a character to play. But every time I thought you were getting close to figuring it out, I had to pick someone else. Tiring work, but I have to say, it may have been worth it to get to read all of these.” She gestured towards the bookshop’s contents. “I might even know them better than you, Aziraphale!”

She paused, expecting a reply, but got none, for the bookshop was empty, aside from the three celestial beings within it, and two were still in shock.

“Anyways,” She turned around to exit. “I’ve had a lot of fun here over the years. Aziraphale, promise you won’t close down anytime soon. Might pop in for a visit again, just for old time’s sake.” She winked, heels clicking against the floor. “See you two next Armageddon!” The Almighty called behind Her, waving, and the bell rang once more as She made Her exit.

“Uh- buh-” Aziraphale’s mouth flopped up and down like a fish out of water, and snake-Crowley turned back into normal Crowley, who lay in the snake tank, staring up at the ceiling.

“The Almighty has been visiting your bookshop for several centuries.”

“Uh- buh- guh-”

“She has been reading your books.”

“Uh- huh- buh-”

“And She told you to tell me that you loved me.”

Somehow, these were the words that brought Aziraphale back down to Earth. “It wasn’t Her!” Crowley turned his head and slowly raised an eyebrow. Aziraphale flushed. “She simply planted the idea in the 1960’s. I didn’t actually do it until-“

“After Armageddon, after 6,000 years of me pining and hinting at the love I had for you.” Crowley smirked at his lover. “She’s right, you know.” He turned over in his tank[13] to face Aziraphale. “You really are a stubborn one.” 

[13] The position seemed extremely uncomfortable. He wasn’t a snake at the moment, after all.

Aziraphale’s eyes widened. “I am not!”

“Are too. The Almighty just said it Herself.” 

“I-” Aziraphale was stuck. He fell into a grumpy silence, crossing his arms and sulking.

Crowley chuckled at his angel and clambered out of the tank to saunter over and wrap his lanky arms around him from behind. “How about this?” He murmured into Aziraphale’s ear. “We close the bookshop for a while and take a break. Maybe take a walk, visit a country or two, and come back when you’re feeling a little bit more calm.” He poked his angel’s cheek playfully. “Besides, with the bombshell that She just dropped, I think it’d be good to take a little break. Don’t you?”

Aziraphale sighed, trying to hide his smile. “I… suppose.” He turned around in Crowley’s arms and wrapped his arms around the demon’s neck. “How about that restaurant?”

“The one in Japan you’ve been telling me so much about? Roo-something?”

“RyuGin,” Aziraphale corrected kindly. “And yes.” He pulled himself from the demon’s loving clutches and walked off, presumably to close the shop. Crowley did not follow after him, instead choosing to smile lovingly at his lover from behind. 

_ I suppose I should thank You,  _ he thought, once out of sight.  _ For how You’ve helped me over all these years.  _

A voice, similar to the one he’d heard not five minutes ago, beamed itself into his head and he jumped, not expecting an answer.  _ It was my pleasure, Aziraphale. It was the least I could do. Those books really do calm a Goddess down, especially when humanity wasn’t exactly the most helpful towards the Great Plan. Your bookshop has always been a good place for me to unwind. Just… do me a favor. _

_ Of course, my Lady. _

_...don’t tell any of the other angels I did this. Please. Gabriel would probably throw a fit. _

_...he would, wouldn’t he? I certainly won’t, my Lady. _

_ Yes. And make sure that demon of yours treats you well. Treat him well, too. I’ve spent 6,000 years trying and failing to get the two of you to realize your feelings, and if it all goes wrong at this point, I will literally- wait. _

Aziraphale froze.  _ My Lady? _

_ You heard nothing, Aziraphale. Good bye. _

“My Lady-!” He exclaimed, but the voice was gone, and so was Her Almighty’s presence. The angel chuckled and sighed. 

_ I’ll treat him well, my Lady. I promise. _

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! leave a comment or some constructive criticism if you can, i'm always eager to see how i can improve my writing!!


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